


To Do List

by tjstar



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Boys Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dude, you’re my best friend. Your ass is my ass, you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Do List

“It's a suicide attempt. I'm not going to climb there!” Patrick says peremptorily. He lifts his head and examines the ceiling of school auditorium. Such a beautiful view.

Room was decorated by Gabe and Dallon, best (and tallest) basketball players. So, Pete and Patrick have to remove decorations off the top of the walls: paper garlands, stupid flowers and letters. Thanksgiving Day, as usual.

Dallon went to take a part in a sport competitions, Gabe had some time to elope and hide from school head teacher. Stump and Wentz were the latest who has left the class, and Patrick got a troubles with untied shoelaces on his sneakers. While he was twisting macramé and Pete was waiting for him, friends automatically signed up for the operation “Do The Cleaning After The Concert, Which Took A Place Two Days Ago”. Yeah, Pete's totally obsessed with long titles.

Pete calls his friend “slowpoke” to give him hell; despite the outward calm and prudence, sometimes Patrick turns into a hurricane. A tiny hurricane, tossing lightnings and thunder. Pete just wants to catch him and run away from a crime scene; an innocent victims are unworthy to watch a film-catastrophe called "Patrick Stump: Uprising". But Patrick is so funny at his anger and Pete continues teasing him. Bring Patrick to a white heat — №1 in Pete’s “To Do List”. Even if it’s just a joke. Even if Patrick keeps silence like the “slowpoke” he is. Actually, Stump is the most harmless creature in the Universe. Probably, it depends of the phases of the moon.

“Oh, don’t worry Pattycakes. It’s your fault that we’re stuck here,” Pete answers, waiting for the reaction. He knows that Patrick hates all of his “gastronomic” nicknames.

Patrick lets out a sigh, humbling. “Pattycakes” kills his self-esteem not as much as “Hybrid of a Donut and a Fox”. That name Pete gave him last week. Honestly, Wentz just can’t stop thinking about food when he looks at Patrick. Because Patrick is so… Appetizing? Or just attractive? Anyway, Patrick doesn't share his friend’s enthusiasm.

“Ladder? I don’t think it will help… Too high,” Patrick produces a complex of logarithmic calculations in his mind; he needs to catch one of the strings of paper lumps, strung on a thread. From under the ceiling, of course. Strange origami looks like a boas; really, Brendon should go away from the organizing committee.

“I believe in you,” Pete pats his friend's back. Patrick smirks discontentedly. “You should be taller”.

“Acrophobia,” Patrick grumbles. One half is a joke, but other half is a true: he doesn’t want to climb up and balance on folding stairs, standing on tiptoes. Not cool. But Patrick’s intuition suggests that Pete isn’t going to help him. Not cool twice.

 Pete brings a dusty ladder from a dark corner and leans it against the wall, smiling.

 “A very solemn moment,” Patrick thinks sadly.

Pete’s not much taller than Patrick with his five-feet-tall-plus-headdress but Patrick gives him a death glare. Pete knows that it's called “I Personally Heat Up The Infernal Frying Pan The Size Of A Golf Course Special For You”. It is Pete’s secret hobby, number two after including Patrick in the “mouth-watering list of things”.

“I’ll support you, morally,” Pete waves his hand toward the stairs, teasing.

"Why isn't Ross here?” Patrick asks, trying to protest.

“He’s so emo for this shit. Let’s go,” Pete responds. “Quick start, fast finish. I'll go in the basement to take the boxes, and... You just jump and grab everything what you can catch”.

The flip side of “Volcanic Patrick” is: he always listens to Pete, at least, in 80%. Maybe his friend's ideas are always better than his own or he just trusts him. Well, it’s the same 80%, stably. Pete goes to the ground floor, anticipating how Patrick pours curses, removing flowers from the walls. Patrick’s not good at strong language, but he lets out a meaningful sigh, that guarantees an entertaining evening.

Patrick stands on the last rung of the ladder; he's ready to perform the task, not wishing Plagues of Egypt for his friend. He tries to reach to a paper garlands, a little bit, it's so close; oh God, why Saporta ran away so quickly... Patrick balances on tiptoes, reaches out his hand and... Oh, crap the ladder is defective or Pete Wentz is defective or it's just Patrick's bad day; Patrick thinks “Ow” before he falls down the stairs. He tumbles on his back, breaking the eleven feet distance and at last decides that making concrete floors in schools is a terrible idea.

 ***

“I found only one box, can we...? Jesus!” actually, Pete is a synonym for a phrase “non-religious person”, but this situation makes him forget about the principles. “Are you alive?” he kneels next to his motionless friend. Stupid box doesn't mean a thing anymore. “Patrick?”

No response.

Pete concludes by evaluating the extent of the tragedy: A) Patrick is unconscious; B) there’s blood on his lips.

Not a good sign.

Pete knows it's too late to blame himself, but he's confused. Patrick fell from fucking ladder and it's all Pete's fault. Call 911?

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Pete mumbles, placing his hand on Patrick’s cheek. Should he slap Patrick across his face to wake him up? But he already hit his head, it's enough. “Stupid,” Pete repeats once again.

“W-who?..” Patrick says weakly and opens his eyes. Pete hadn’t noticed before, what’s the color of Patrick's eyes: green, with yellow dots and blue lines; a little bit bleary, maybe because of his bad eyesight? Patrick refuses to wear glasses and Pete wonders how his friend can see the world with near-sightedness minus-who-knows-how-many. Pete swears to buy contact lenses for Patrick; or Pete just should drag him to laser vision correction.

Patrick tries to sit up; Pete wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders, helping to keep him balance. So close… Pete looks at the details of his friend's appearance and now he's pretty sure: Patrick has a cute nose. Beautiful, he can say. Pointed nose with a small hump… Why does Pete pay attention to it? Why now and not before? Perhaps he was distracted by Patrick's reddish hair. Or by his baseball cap. How Patrick managed to fall without losing his cap? Mentally Pete presents an “Award For Being Professional In Wearing Hats” to Patrick and hugs him tightly.

“I’m so stupid,” Pete nearly yells at himself. He can't deal with his own thoughts. It’s too late.

“Huh, really?” Patrick replies and winces, licking the blood from his lower lip, which was bitten in the “flight” so badly. Suddenly Pete wants to lick Patrick’s lips. Oh no. Very “suitable” time for flirting with this guy; even if Pete knows him for a hundred years. Likely Patrick smashed the back of the head. Or broke his ribs. Pete must make sure that Patrick is okay.

Patrick licks his lips again, touching his fingers to the wound, small but deep. He’s so… Charming? Or... appetizing?!

“Oh, well…” Pete mutters. He hopes that his injured friend feels too bad to resist.

Patrick is dangerously close to Pete; his “I'm-gonna-pass-out-again” condition acts on Pete like a red rag to a bull. Even if all of the bulls are colorblind, it's not a big problem. Sometimes Pete doesn't understand color shades too. Maybe, nothing's wrong. If Patrick hadn't fallen down the stairs, Pete wouldn't ever have realized what Stump means to him. It looks like Pete is the real slowpoke in their duo.

Pete leans forward quickly and presses his lips against Patrick's. Pete's hot and passionate, his heart goes crazy. Such an awkward kiss, with the taste of Patrick's blood… It reminds him of a music clip about vampires, by some-rock-band; Pete had watched it a few days ago.

Patrick is so cute and warm and innocent but why does he snuffle so discontentedly?

“Woah, what are you…”Patrick breaks the hug and recoils from Pete, covering his mouth with his hand. Then he turns away and suddenly throws up on dusty floor; awful sounds, awful moment.

“Great,” Pete thinks to himself.

Wentz invents the most intense crimson color in the palette, like officially. His face blushes; what a terrible, shameful, awkward oh-god-why situation. He wants to be burned alive and be scattered to a handful of ashes peacefully.

“Oops,” Pete says pointedly. Patrick rolls onto his side, trying to stay away from a nasty substance; a few hours ago, Patrick had eaten his lunch  in vain. Unwittingly, Pete decides that the incident doesn’t cause a disgust, but at heart he still hopes that Patrick puked because of a concussion and not because of the kiss.

Pete hasn't much experience in some love affairs, but at least, no one was gut-wrenching inside out before. That moment in school auditorium pretends to the title "The Unforgettable", shit. Typical Stump.

Patrick coughs and buries his face in his hands. Pete glances at the mops in the corner, with regret in his eyes.

“Well…” Pete fails his “self-igniting” attempts and lets out a disappointed sigh. “Do you still feel nauseous? Or…” he doesn't know which tricks he should expect from Patrick's crazy body. “Do you wanna use the toilet?”

“No-o,” Patrick moans as he tries to sit up, leaning his back against the fallen ladder. “Sorry…” Patrick shakes his head.

“What?!” Pete is really confused. Must be Patrick seriously hurt his brain if he's apologizing for his sickness. It’s 6 PM, the nurse has already left the school but Patrick's lip still bleeding, and probably it will leave a scar…

“We were good at the concert,” Patrick says shyly and his cheeks turn pink. He rubs his neck, smiling.

Pete crawls a little closer to his friend; he's embarrassed but glad that Patrick remembers their part of that Thanksgiving’s concert. Woah, he's close, so close, Patrick licks his lips, and Pete wants to tell him to stop it. He can't resist the urge to kiss him again despite the obvious taste of bile.

“It would be cooler, if you didn't forget the lyrics,” Pete answers, smirking. But he really likes to perform with Patrick; to create some band with him would be great.

Patrick grins. He always turns the most important conversations into babbling. It's the other side of his talent. Pete disappointed; they should discuss about their relationship, but Patrick wants to talk about music. Fine.

“If you hadn’t slapped me on my ass, they wouldn't even have noticed,” Patrick laughs. This story is a true.

“Dude, you’re my best friend. Your ass is my ass, you know,” Pete blurts out, tugging down his t-shirt.

Patrick frowns. He’s too selfish to share his ass with someone else. Well, it’s just a matter of time.

Sloppy paper decorations hang on the walls as a dead weight.

“Go home,” Pete offers, in a casual tone. “I’ll… Um… I’ll clean,” it's too hard to finish this phrase. He should to mop the floor.

“I just fell down from fucking ladder. It's okay,” Patrick responds, starting to feel nervous. Pete's pity doesn't bring some optimism.

Pete realizes that he can safely put a tick next to item "To Make Patrick Angry" in his imaginary organizer. This is not what he wants, that’s not so cool! Pete nods silently. He hopes that Patrick isn't going to come into his house at night to smother him with a pillow. Night… Patrick… In his bedroom… “Not bad,” Pete guesses.

His thoughts are interrupted by Patrick's voice.

“You know…” Patrick says. Pete is ready to dig the grave for his dead self-esteem. “If you'd like to kiss me again... Please, choose a more suitable time...”

“No problem, Trick!” Pete smiles happily. He makes a note that Patrick irritates, he really hates all the short forms of his name. But Pete likes it.

His daily plan is executed successfully.

**Author's Note:**

> Actually I don't speak English but I should to practice it for my own good. So, PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE help me with my grammar!! It's really important; feel free and let me know about all my mistakes/what-the-hell-this-author-means. ONCE AGAIN: I need it!!!!  
> (I think there are more mistakes than words))


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